


Come Undone

by sussiekitten



Category: Inheritance Cycle - Christopher Paolini
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-23
Updated: 2010-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-14 00:37:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/143393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sussiekitten/pseuds/sussiekitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever fallen in love with a teacher? Eragon hadn’t until he started University. And from there it only seemed to go downhill. That was, until that fateful day after work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Come

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I don’t own Eragon or anything associated with the Inheritance Cycle. Murtagh's ringtone are lyrics taken from Stephen Lynch’s song _Priest_.
> 
> Unbeta'ed. Beware of spelling/grammar errors.
> 
> There are some italics in this story that means that a character is speaking in another language (Japanese), though I haven't dared to actually use the language to show it. I'm not fluent in it, hence I'm not going to butcher it.
> 
> You'll have to excuse certain facts - like that Murtagh's a college teacher when he's only 23. We all know it's impossible to do that, but for the sake of the story I have ignored that.
> 
> The character Aksel Wood that appears in this story is mine. The rest are Paolinis. This story also features my human versions of Saphira and Thorn.

An eighteen year old brunet sat in the middle of a decent sized classroom, his cheek supported by his palm. His dark brown eyes were staring out of the window, clouded with thoughts. A pair of dark torn and ripped jeans barely stayed on thanks to the studded belt around his hips. A thin hooded sweater in tan and black ghosted around his frame. And Eragon Rider wasn’t even remotely paying attention to whatever his teacher was saying. It was Creative Writing, and he knew if whatever that was said was important he would find it on the school’s webpage later that afternoon. He was in no mood to concentrate. In fact, he couldn’t.

Beside him a petite blonde was gazing at him out of the corner of her eye. She looked worried, and with good reason. Eragon had been her friend since before either of them could remember, and never had she seen him look so preoccupied. Saphira Drake bit her lip and slowly turned back to her note taking. One of them had pay attention after all. They weren’t in high school anymore.

The bell rang not long after, snapping Eragon out of his thoughts. Which was actually a good thing, all things considered. His mind had the tendency to stray the wrong way when left alone too long.

“Be sure to check the web tonight! I’ll put out your homework there,” their teacher shouted after them.

Half of the class groaned. Eragon would have joined in had he been listening. As soon as they were out of the classroom, Saphira grabbed hold of him and dragged him out of the English Hall.

As if seeing her for the first time that day, he couldn’t help but to notice how his best friend looked. Saphira’s blue eyes twinkled beneath her long forelock, the rest of her hair falling in layers around her face and neck. Her light jeans were baggy and were held up by a belt, and her black top nearly clung to her every curve. A thin, hooded white jacket was left unzipped, as the summer would soon enough begin to creep up on them.

“Eragon, what’s wrong?” she asked him, a small frown marring her face.

Eragon shook his head weakly.

“Oh, nothing. I was just spacing,” Eragon answered.

Saphira sent him a disbelieving glare.

“ _ **Liar**_ ,” she said then. “ _ **What’s wrong**_ , Eragon? You can tell me.”

Eragon smiled weakly.

“You’ve been studying I see?” he said as they came out into a milling hallway.

“ _ **Yeah**_ ,” the blonde replied as she fixed the strap hanging over her shoulder. “We do have a test next week after all.”

The brunet dragged a hand absently through his unruly hair.

“Yeah,” he murmured.

“Is this about...”

Saphira’s voice trailed off. And Eragon knew why.

Ever since starting college, he had had a crush on someone, someone he’d rather not like that way. But ever since the year before, when he had stepped into Psychology 101, he had fallen heads over heels for his teacher. But once Eragon had shown his friends just who his teacher was they had stopped arguing or even asking him what he had been thinking.

His teacher was, in one word, perfect. The man had told the class the first day that he had just gotten his teaching licence, and that he was looking forward to teaching them. And he was just twenty-three!

Eragon sighed.

“You shouldn’t even have to ask me that,” he said lowly.

“If it bothers you that much, maybe you should drop out?” but even Saphira didn’t sound confident about what she was saying.

“I can’t, Saph,” Eragon sighed. “I need the course to get a full score, and the drop date has already passed.”

Saphira sighed.

“Then I guess you’ll just have to survive. For don’t you dare to die on me,” suddenly her mood had switched to semi-playful. “If you do, I’ll bring you back and kill you myself.”

Eragon smiled weakly. He knew she was just trying to cheer him up, but little helped these days. Every Tuesday and Friday he would almost act like a zombie. For those were the days he had Psychology.

“Ah, there you guys are!”

The two teens turned around. A tall dark haired female slowed her running into a walk as she came closer. Her short hair was pulled back in a ponytail, showing off her vibrant green eyes perfectly. Her dark green pants were loose, but clung to the right places nonetheless. Her soft and light tee showed off her shoulders as her jacket was tied around her hips. Arya Elve smiled as she stopped up before them.

“Hello Saph, **_kid_** ,” she greeted them.

“Watch it Arya, or I’ll start calling you grandma again,” Eragon deadpanned.

Arya just laughed.

“Ready for another hour of hell I see,” she said simply.

Eragon just sighed.

“I’m placing him in your hands. Take care of him, Arya,” Saphira said before she took off towards the Art Wing and her next class.

Arya just nodded. Then her gaze turned to Eragon. The brunet merely shrugged and started to walk towards their next class. He had never asked Arya why she had chosen to take a sophomore class when she herself was a junior. But he was glad she was there. He knew he would need the support.

“Hey, how are you? Seriously,” Arya asked in a whisper.

Eragon had stuffed his hands into his pockets; his posture becoming hunched as he walked on. He could feel a headache creeping.

“Okay I guess, until I remembered that I had this class today,” he answered.

Arya’s constant mischievous mood sobered slightly.

“I know what it’s like. I’ve been there myself, and -”

“Yeah, and how old were you again?” Eragon asked her.

Arya flushed softly.

“Fine, so I was in high school. But I got over it, end of story. I’m just saying that you can too,” the green eyed girl finished.

The classroom got closer as they entered the Social Studies Block of the college. Eragon stopped up for a moment, watching as students walked pass them seemingly without a care in the world.

“That’s just it...I can’t,” he whispered.

Arya wisely stayed silent.

\----

Eragon always sat in the very back of the room, by the desk next to the window. And Arya always sat beside him. It had been easy to obtain these seats as the other students always argued who were to sit at the front row. Arya and Eragon had laughed at this before their first lesson, having not seen the teacher beforehand, but their laughter had instantly stopped when the he had walked in. All noise would cease when he entered, apart from the occasional dreamy sigh.

Arya had been one of the few female students not to fall over themselves after seeing Mr Morzansson the first time. Eragon on the other hand… he had fallen hard. And he suspected he wasn’t even close to the bottom yet.

The pair entered the classroom in silence. Most of the students had already arrived, and two girls were loudly arguing over who had come to the last front seat first. Eragon walked pass them without as much as sparing them a glance. He could feel Arya come after him, her worried green eyes fixed at his back. Eragon only sighed and slumped into his usual seat.

The brunet ran a hand through his hair as he waited for the bell to ring. He absently noted that his forelock was getting slightly long. Maybe he should cut it? His uncle Garrow always commented amusedly on how he couldn’t look his nephew in the eye anymore. Eragon smiled wryly at the thought. If Garrow just knew what was going on he would be glad he couldn’t look him in the eye.

The bell rang then, waking Eragon from his slight daze. Arya bit her lip as she shot him yet another worried glance. She was unable to say anything else as the teacher decided to enter the room at that precise moment.

Eragon winced when he heard the girls enthusiastically greet the teacher, their voice going straight to his head. The guys weren’t far behind, but their greeting was more out of respect. No one disliked Mr Morzansson. It just wasn’t possible.

“Good afternoon all,” Morzansson said in his usual husky voice. “Ready to dig into today’s subject?”

The girls practically giggled. Eragon sighed again as he forced himself to look up. He wasn’t enthusiastic about having to look at the teacher that plagued his mind so, but he didn’t want to look like he wasn’t paying attention either.

As soon as Eragon lifted his gaze, his eyes were locked at the man standing before them. Morzansson had told them the first day that his name was Murtagh and that he preferred to be addressed as such, though few of the actually students actually did so. He was a tall man with pale skin and messily styled black hair. His hair always seemed to hang into his intense eyes, eyes that gleamed hazel with flecks of green around the pupils. Eragon knew this from the torturous few times he had been close and brave enough to look his teacher in the eye. He always wore dark clothes, be they black or a dark shade of another colour. And he always, no matter what, looked too good to be considered legal.

“Does anyone remember what we’re covering today?” Morzansson asked with a soft smirk.

Half of the class eagerly raised their hands. Morzansson chuckled and chose one of the more hesitant ones.

“Um...personality disorders?” the student asked more than she said.

Morzansson grinned.

“That’s correct. I hope you’ve all read the chapter for today, or you won’t be able to participate much in today’s lesson,” the teacher booted up the laptop as he spoke. “We’ll be covering one disorder today. So, can anyone tell me what antisocial personality disorder is?”

The class eagerly raised their hands again. The wall behind Morzansson lit up with a classical presentation image. The headline spelled the disorder they were discussing. He himself stood a little to the right, the portable computer-mouse in his hand.

“Yes, Mr Surda?”

“It’s a disorder that can’t be diagnosed before you’ve turned fifteen, and since that time you’ve had to have shown disrespect towards social norms or rules.” the student in question answered.

“Good,” Morzansson said with a small nod. “But why don’t you elaborate? What kind of social norms or rules?”

Orrin Surda coughed and looked away. Morzansson laughed.

“That’s fine, it’s a hard question,” the dark haired male said. “Does anyone want to answer?”

Eragon jumped when he saw Arya raise her hand. Usually they didn’t participate in class, but he knew that Arya had written a paper in high school about the very subject they were discussing. He looked away when the teacher turned in their direction.

“Yes, Ms Elve?” Morzansson called.

“They are incapable of following rules or laws, and examples of disrespect towards norms are that they are often cruel to animals or people,” Arya answered with a sure and steady voice.

“Very good,” the teacher said with a half smirk. “And this brings me to my next question. Can someone give me the characteristics of ASPD?”

The screen behind him suddenly bore the title description of the disorder and the line: _Characteristics – 3 of the following criteria’s must be present_. Morzansson clicked the mouse one more time before he allowed his gaze to travel back to his students. Eragon was not surprised to see the first half of Arya’s answer standing as the first criteria.

The brunet allowed his mind to wander. The class eagerly chatted on without him. He even ignored a few pokes done by his friend. Eragon was not in a mood to pay attention. He was too busy massaging his softly throbbing temples.

A few minutes later an especially sharp poke woke him from his thoughts. He managed just to catch the question before he felt everyone’s eyes on him.

“- the last criteria Mr Rider?”

Eragon felt his cheeks flush. He quickly looked up on the list. He gulped before answering hesitantly, still not meeting the teacher’s gaze.

“Lack of guilt after having physically hurt or stolen from someone?”

Eragon couldn’t miss, even though he wasn’t looking at him, the smile that appeared on Morzason’s face.

“Yes, and what more about their lack of guilt?” he encouraged.

“Eh...they’re either indifferent or try to explain away their actions?” Eragon answered shakily.

“Don’t sound so hesitant, Rider. You’re absolutely correct,” Morzansson said before he turned back to the rest of the class.

Arya sent him a soft smile which Eragon caught out of the corner of his eye. The brunet turned towards her with a panicked look in his eyes. Arya patted his hand comfortingly. She knew how he hated to he pointed out in classes. There was a reason he wasn’t as active as the rest of the students.

The bell rang not too soon for Eragon. After having been called by the teacher, he had been unable to get the blush out of his cheeks. It burned so much it actually hurt! Eragon just continued to rub his cheeks pathetically as he walked towards the door with Arya.

“Rider, can I talk to you for a moment?”

Eragon froze. He gulped before he turned around. Morzansson was leaning onto the teacher’s desk, the usual smirk absent from his face.

“I’ll see you later, Eragon,” Arya whispered before she turned back around and left the room.

The door shut behind her. Eragon bit his lip as he walked up towards the man that plagued his very existence. He stuffed his shaking hands into his pockets.

“What is it, sir?” the brunet asked softly.

“Are you aware that your grades have dropped dramatically compared to last semester?” the teacher asked with a hint of concern in his voice.

“Yes, sir,” Eragon answered.

“I don’t see why,” Morzansson sighed. “Your tests show that you know the subject, but your lack of participation in class is pulling you down. And I’m afraid that your paper on Learning Theories barely got a passing grade.”

Eragon winced. It was only March, and already he was almost failing. Sometimes he wondered what was wrong with him. He had managed to get through the first year, but apparently his crush had decided to develop into a full blown **love** during the summer and was making it impossible for him to pass Psych class.

“I’m sorry,” Eragon whispered.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” the other man said kindly. “I just want you to do your best. I would hate to fail you when I know you can do this.”

The brown eyed teen lifted his gaze. Their eyes met. Eragon felt himself blush again and looked away quickly.

“I’ll try to do better.”

Eragon turned to walk away, but a hand grasping onto his shoulder stopped him.

“Eragon,” Morzansson paused. “Don’t try, do. **Do** better.”

Eragon bit his lip again.

“Yes, sir,” he whispered.

The hand on his shoulder slowly let go. Eragon didn’t look back as he walked out of the room.

\----

“Oh Eragon, I’m so sorry.”

The brunet in question stood behind the counter in the local bookstore he worked in. A black rimmed and grey t-shirt proudly presented the name of the place he worked.

“It’s okay. You couldn’t have known,” Eragon answered.

In front of him Arya frowned. Saphira was busy attending to a costumer to his right, but he knew she was paying attention to their conversation.

“Still! If you had told me I could have helped you,” Arya continued guiltily.

Eragon didn’t answer as he heard Saphira say goodbye to her costumer before turning to them. It was an hour before closing, and not many stopped by Trondsheim Bookstore. But that didn’t mean that no one did.

“Eragon, you could at least have told us that he was affecting you this much,” Saphira commented softly.

“It’s fine,” Eragon said with a forced smile. “I’ll probably get over it soon.”

“It’s been a year and a half. I don’t think so,” Saphira said as she folded her arms across her stomach.

Eragon sighed.

“I think I’ll go and tidy up a bit,” he said and walked out from behind the counter.

“Alright. But don’t think you’re getting away from us that easily,” Saphira said with a small worried frown.

“I should get going anyway. Bye Eragon!” Arya called after his retreating form.

Eragon vaguely heard the girls say goodbye, but ignored it. A group of younger teenagers had been to the store a few hours prior. He knew he would find some random books standing in the wrong shelf or not having been put away at all in the back.

His hands slipped into his pockets and his posture slumped forward. The brunet regretted telling his friends what Mr Morzansson and he had talked about. But there was nothing he could do about it now.

Eragon stepped into the back of the store and saw indeed some books that had not been put away. The Trondsheim wasn’t a normal bookshop but not quite a library either. There were a few tables in the back as well as in the front where people could skim through a book or two if they wanted to. But the store also sold newspapers, school supplies and various other small things. It was popular among the local high school and college/university students. But putting away things weren’t as popular.

“Eragon! I’m just going to take the cash into the back!” Saphira shouted a few minutes later.

“Alright!” Eragon yelled back, not really paying attention.

He was trying to remember where the Medicine section of the store was. Eragon wasn’t often back there, and only knew where his own subjects had their books or where to find the books he liked to read. He was so engrossed with trying to find the correct shelf that he jumped when someone touched his shoulder.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Eragon felt his entire being freeze. He had believed, hoped, that with it being Friday he wouldn’t have to see **that person** until Tuesday. Not even bothering to try to regain his calm, the brunet turned around.

“Ah, Eragon. I didn’t know you worked here,” Morzansson said kindly.

Eragon swallowed. He settled for smiling as his voice simply refused to work.

“Could you help me? I’m looking for the Psychology section,” Morzansson continued.

“Ah, yeah,” Eragon snapped himself out of his state. “It’s the shelf to your right there.”

The man looked behind himself and let out a heartfelt laugh.

“Well, there you go. Thank you,” he said with another sexy smirk.

Eragon just nodded. He didn’t stick around to watch whatever his teacher might be looking for. Instead he nearly ran in the opposite direction, suddenly remembering where the books in his hands belonged.

Eragon cursed under his breath as he put away the books perhaps a bit harder than needed be. He couldn’t believe himself! Why did he always have to act like a love-sick school girl around Morzansson?! It was unbelievably embarrassing.

“Damn it,” Eragon cursed when he found that he was just an inch too short to put the book where it belonged. “Just my luck.”

“Here, let me help you.”

Eragon blushed when the book was taken right out of his hands and put into its place.

“You’d think there would be a ladder around here,” Morzansson commented with a low chuckle.

“There is, but there were a couple of kids in here earlier and they love to play with it,” Eragon replied dryly.

Morzansson let out another laugh.

“Why am I not surprised?” he said quietly.

Eragon just shrugged. Inside he was cursing Saphira for leaving them alone.

“Eragon.”

Something in Morzansson’s voice made him turn around.

“I’m sorry if I seemed harsh earlier,” the older man said. “I hope you understand that wasn’t my intention.”

“Of course,” Eragon said and smiled nervously.

A look of relief flashed in Morzansson’s eyes.

“Good,” he smiled, and his eyes flicked back and forth quickly. “Actually...are you tending to the store alone? I haven’t heard or seen anyone else since stepping inside.”

“Oh, my friend’s just in the back, putting away some stuff,” the brunet said with surprising ease.

Morzansson nodded. He started to trek toward the front of the store again.

“Aren’t you coming? I can’t ring up these books by myself,” his voice carried back with an amused edge.

The brunet bit his lip. Again he cursed Saphira. He jogged to catch up with his teacher, jumping back the counter effortlessly. He didn’t really pay attention as he rang up the books, and heard himself say the price. It was as if something had taken over inside of him. He had become accustomed to tending to costumers without really paying attention.

“Eragon, you know we have to talk about – oh, hello Mr Morzansson!”

Eragon glared over his shoulder. He knew very well what Saphira had been about to blurt out, and thanked God that she was a very observant girl.

“Good evening, miss,” Morzansson nodded politely.

Saphira simply smiled. Eragon clenched his teeth as he gave his teacher back the correct change.

“May I ask how you know my name?” the dark haired man asked amusedly.

“Oh, I may not have you as my teacher, but I recognize you from school,” Saphira said a little hesitantly.

Eragon had always known Saphira to be a bad liar, but now he saw the full effect of it. He cursed every God he could possibly think of when the floor didn’t open up and swallow him.

Fortunately enough Morzansson seemed to accept that answer. He merely nodded and gave the girl a half-smirk.

“I’ll be seeing you on Tuesday then, Eragon. Good night,” the older man said softly before he turned around and exited the shop.

The blonde walked up to the door after him, flipping the **open** sign to **closed** before turning back to her friend.

“Well, isn’t someone the teacher’s little favourite?” she practically purred.

“What?” Eragon asked. “Have you been snorting magic markers again? I keep telling you, they aren’t actually _magical_.”

Saphira rolled her eyes.

“Seriously, Eragon. Don’t tell me you didn’t see the looks he gave you?!”

The brown eyed teen frowned. He picked up his bag and jacket; both items had been brought back into the store by Saphira earlier, and snorted.

“What looks? The _‘who’s your crazy friend?’_ ones?” Eragon drawled.

“Men,” Saphira sighed. “I’m not even going to bother. I shall confer with Arya later and then we’ll see if you’ll finally wake up and greet the day.”

Eragon kept frowning as they both walked out of the store and locked it behind them. They parted ways, but even so Saphira’s words stayed on his mind. He shook his head and simply told himself that Saphira had finally lost her mind, and that was all.

\----

Eragon woke up the next morning feeling anything but refreshed. His dreams had been plagued by a certain dark haired teacher, and not in a good way. He ran a hand through his hair and winced when he found it tangled and sweaty, just as he had suspected. A quick shower changed his poor state, but not his haunted eyes.

Glad that he didn’t have work until five that afternoon; the brunet ate a quick breakfast before walking out to meet his friends. He wasn’t looking too forward to that. He had a sneaky feeling that Saphira would go through with her threat and tell Arya before he arrived. Almost unconsciously he slowed down.

“Ah Eragon, there you are!”

Eragon waved at his two friends. But strangely enough they weren’t the only ones who were waiting for him. Behind them stood a very tall redhead, whom Eragon instantly felt a little afraid of, with a pair of startling golden brown eyes. He looked to be in his early twenties. Beside him and talking animatedly was a lean dark haired and skinned female with soft brown eyes. She looked not to have hit twenty yet, but Eragon couldn’t be sure.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” Saphira scolded playfully.

“To think that you actually made our guests wait, ‘Agon,” Arya tsk’ed. “Where are your manners?”

Eragon merely lifted an eyebrow. Arya smirked in answer.

“Anyway, this is Thorn,” Saphira said, nodding to the tall and bulky male that had taken his place behind her.

“No need to look so scared. I’m not going to eat you,” Thorn said with a tiny smirk. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“And I’m Nasuada,” the dark haired girl greeted with a smile. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of one-another.”

Eragon just nodded.

“Aren’t you cute?” Nasuada commented with a soft laugh. “He’s scared of us, Thorn!”

“Hey, I am not!” Eragon piped up though he inched a little away from Thorn as he said so.

“I can see that,” Thorn laughed.

“Thorn, behave,” Saphira said with a slight narrowing of her eyes.

Suddenly everything clicked for Eragon. He hated how slow he could be sometimes.

“You’re seeing him?” Eragon said to Saphira, then to Arya. “And you her?”

“Hand over the money, Arya! And you said he would need ten minutes,” the blonde piped up eagerly.

Arya surrendered the money with ease, a smirk on her lips.

“Hadn’t it been for Thorn’s possessiveness it would have taken him longer, believe me,” the green eyed girl commented mock-innocently.

Saphira had the grace to blush.

The group found a vacant table inside the closest café and sat down in a very comfortable booth. Eragon was surprised when he didn’t feel out of place or like the fifth wheel. Thorn and Nasuada were very welcoming towards him and they made sure to include him in discussions he had little or no prior information about. The brunet felt very at ease, until...

“But this is the...what did you call him... _ **kid**_? Yes, the **_kid_** that has an enormous crush on Mr New-Guy,” Nasuada said practically out of the blue.

Eragon could feel himself blushing.

“I hate you, Arya,” he growled.

“Now, now, no need for that,” the dark skinned female interrupted before a banter could begin. “I’m just saying that I understand. I know him, and even if I’m batting completely for the other team, I can see what the fuss is all about.”

Eragon just sunk lower into his seat and continued to glare at Arya. The girl in question winked.

“What class do you have him in?” Thorn asked.

Eragon nearly jumped up. He gave them all a suspicious look before answering.

“Psychology.”

To his surprise Thorn smiled. Eragon had known the red haired male for a total of hours he had never seen him smile. And by the look on Saphira’s and Arya’s face, it didn’t happen often either.

“Should have figured,” he murmured to himself and chuckled.

“What aren’t you telling us, Thorn?” Saphira asked suspiciously.

The redhead put an arm around her shoulder and leaned down to whisper something in her ear. Her face lit up almost immediately. Beside him Arya grinned.

“Why do I suddenly have the feeling that I’m being left out?” Eragon said with a very visible sarcastic edge.

“Don’t worry, babe. You wouldn’t believe us even if we told you,” Arya said with a laugh.

“Saph… if this has anything to do with yesterday, I swear I’ll -” the brunet found himself cut off however.

“Listen here, Eragon,” Nasuada said gently, her hands folded on top of the table. “Let me tell you something about Thorn and me. Thorn was in Murtagh’s graduating class, I was the year below them. We’re very close friends, much alike to you three, and we’ve managed to keep in touch even after school. Let’s just say that something regarding Murtagh had us coming down to see him for ourselves.”

“Coming down, Nas? You live next door to my old house,” Arya laughed.

The girl beside her gave her a wink.

“You don’t look twenty-two,” Eragon commented before he could stop himself, and a flush quickly burned across his cheeks.

Nasuada laughed loudly.

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed. I get that all the time. I need to show ID almost everywhere I go.”

“That must suck,” Eragon said with a slight frown.

“It sometimes has its advantages,” she answered mystically.

Eragon’s frown deepened, his hands sinking into his pants pocket as he did so. Then he remembered something.

“What about him?” he asked.

Nasuada sent him a confused look.

“What about Morzansson? What made you come over here?” Eragon clarified.

Thorn smirked.

“That is for us to know and for you to find out,” he said with a slight lift of his eyebrows.

“I get more answers out of my dust-bunnies than I do you,” the brown eyed teen said deadpanned.

The others just laughed loudly.

\----

Monday morning Eragon forced himself through his classes. It wasn’t easy. It seemed that no matter where he went, Morzansson followed. In his sleep, at school, he just seemed everywhere. Hell, the man knew where he worked now, and not to mention that his friends wouldn’t leave the topic alone. After revealing both of their relationships to him the previous weekend, they actually seemed to want to talk about the subject even more.

Eragon had thought about dating someone else, to get Morzansson out of his mind, but then he remembered that he had never dated a day in his life. Hell, he barely recognized it when people flirted with him! It wasn’t his fault he was socially inadequate. Being gay and only having socialised with his two best friends, both who happened to be girls, had just made it hard to recognize a come-on when they happened. Which, in Eragon’s book, was never.

Currently he was sitting in the cafeteria, trying to go over his homework for the following day. But it wasn’t easy. There was a slight throbbing in the back of his eyes. And he didn’t want to take another painkiller just yet.

“What’s eating you, **_idiot_**?”

Eragon was shaken out of his thoughts when someone spoke to him. He looked up and gave the older male standing above him a glare. Eragon knew him from his Japanese class, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember his name. Something with a V maybe? He couldn’t help but to think _vain_ when he looked at him.

“Why do you care?” Eragon snapped.

The other snorted, a hand coming to run through his silk black hair.

“Just thought I’d give you a helping hand. Can’t have that pretty head of yours exploding just because you’re thinking too hard,” he drawled in a bored voice.

“Why you...” Eragon’s glare darkened. “You **_bastard_**. Mind your own bloody business.”

Eragon didn’t give the other a chance to reply. He slammed his books shut, got to his feet and stalked out of the cafeteria. He then proceeded to curse the nameless student in any way and language he could.

“I didn’t know you took Japanese,” an amused voice woke him from his cursing.

And Eragon nearly fell over his own feet.

“Fu-”

“Now, now, Rider.”

“Erm...funny seeing you here, sir?” Eragon finished sheepishly.

The man in front of him raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Fine, so I was cussing,” Eragon mumbled. “I’ve just had a really bad day.”

“No excuse, Rider,” Morzansson said, but a hint of a smirk was starting to show on his face.

“Sorry,” the brunet bit his lip.

Morzansson chuckled.

“I – do you know Japanese as well, sir?” Eragon asked almost timidly.

“I took some classes in high school. I might be getting a little rusty, but I recognize a curse when I hear one,” the teacher shook his head amusedly. “Somehow, those are the things that always stick.”

The brunet smiled sheepishly.

“Now, maybe you should head off to -”

Eragon had to laugh when Morzansson found himself interrupted by a ringer, one that was so close it had to be his. Because Eragon knew his own, what he was hearing wasn’t it.

 _-Deep in prayer my cross to bear  
I kneel upon the floor-_

“Excuse me for just one moment,” Morzansson said tensely as he pulled a cellular out of his pocket.

 _-Temptations of a...-_

“I swear, when I get hold of you, you will regret the day you were born,” Morzansson growled into the cell that he had hastily opened.

From where he was standing, Eragon could hear whoever was on the other line laugh. And the brown eyed teen couldn’t help but to snigger quietly too.

“No, that joke was **not** funny. You should be glad none of my colleagues heard it,” The older man said angrily.

The laughter became louder. And Eragon could faintly hear the reply. Something about someone not believing Murtagh didn’t have it on silent.

“Well, you said you would call, you bastard,” Morzansson growled. “If it’s the last thing I do, I swear I’ll kill you.”

Eragon bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud, and signalled he would be going.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Rider,” Morzansson said absently.

But Eragon couldn’t help but to frown when the laughter suddenly increased again, and when Morzansson’s curses doubled. He had a feeling he knew that laughter. He just shook his head and went to class.

His next classes passed rather quickly. But one thing kept bugging him. Be it fellow students or a teacher, they were all asking the same thing.

“Eragon, are you okay?”

“The next person who asks me that I’ll push into the cafeteria’s weekly _surprise_ meal,” the brunet said with a glare.

“Well, if people keep asking you, then there must be a reason behind it,” Saphira said.

“You seem moodier,” Arya commented with a half-shrug.

Eragon sighed.

He couldn’t explain why, but he had been in a rather down mood ever since that guy, whom he had started to call _Vaintard_ in his mind, had come up to him just a few hours earlier. Not even Morzansson’s ringer had kept his spirits high for long.

“I just...I don’t know. There’s just this guy that keeps bugging me,” Eragon said with a sour undertone.

Arya and Saphira shared a glance.

“If I hadn’t known better, I would say you’re actually looking better. Just a week ago you wouldn’t even have blinked, much less been bothered if Aliens came and probed you,” Arya said with a slightly crocked eyebrow.

“I - really?” Eragon killed the snappish remark before it even got on his tongue.

Saphira nodded.

“You actually seem...happier. Ever since he showed up at the bookstore,” she clarified.

The brunet frowned.

“Yeah,” Arya said. “If he hadn’t I doubt you would have spared Thorn and Nas a second glance the other day, much less **talked** to them.”

Eragon felt his eyes widen. He hadn’t actually been that low...had he? A wave of past depression told him that, yes, he had been.

“I...”

“No, Eragon, don’t go down there,” Saphira warned him.

But it was too late. Eragon could feel everything returning. It was as if, somehow, he had forgotten why he had been miserable, why he never really bothered to eat anymore. Why there was a little pin that kept puncturing his heart, which now seemed to come back with reinforcements.

“I...how? How could I have forgotten?” he whispered.

“You didn’t. You were finally moving on...somehow. Oh, what have we done?!” Saphira cried worryingly.

A headache really was coming now, a painful and attention-capturing one. It couldn’t be a good thing. When had he last eaten?

“...agon. Talk to us! ...something!”

And everything went black. What was funny was that he could still hear everything that was going on around him. And his arm was hurting. When had that happened?

 _“...going on here?”_

 _“Morzansson! You...help us!! He...”_

 _“Rider!”_

 _“...agon. Can you...us?”_

 _“...help. Take his...drive him...”_

 _“ERAGON!”_

\----

Slowly he could feel himself waking up. But something was off.

“Eragon...Eragon...can you hear me?”

The smell...it didn’t smell like his room. The beddings were too coarse to be his own. And there was an annoying beeping that kept ringing inside his head. He blearily opened his eyes.

“Eragon!”

He instantly closed them. A hospital, of course that was where he was.

“Hey, I know you’re awake. Open those eyes.”

Eragon hesitantly complied.

Arya stared down at him, a displeased look on her face. Her arms were crossed, and her fingers drummed repeatedly against her forearms.

“You were in shock. You fainted,” Arya said disappointingly. “Haven’t you been sleeping?”

“I have!” the brunet piped up.

“Are you sure?” Arya nearly growled.

“Yes,” Eragon stressed.

“Then I don’t know what!” Arya sighed. “But you totally blacked out. Morzansson had to drive you here!! You scared a hell of a lot of people yesterday.”

“Wait, yesterday?! It’s _Tuesday_??”

“Yup.”

That wasn’t Arya’s voice. Eragon didn’t have much time to think who it might be until a blonde blur was by his side, hugging him to death.

“I’m fine, Saph,” he breathed.

Saphira answered by punching his arm.

“Obviously not! You dolt!!” Saphira nearly screeched. “Worrying us like that.”

“It’s not like I meant to,” Eragon protested.

“We know, Eragon. But still...I’m this close to punching you again! In the head this time,” the blonde said with a small glare.

“I – I don’t know what happened.”

“Alright, when did you last eat?” Arya asked.

Eragon fell silent.

“I can’t remember.”

“WHAT?!” Arya and Saphira shouted.

“I’m sorry! But I can’t,” the brunet responded loudly.

“No wonder you fainted,” Saphira said and shook her head. “You need food to work, Eragon.”

“It’s not like I did it on purpose!” Eragon almost snapped.

“One could wonder, with everything that’s been going on lately,” Arya murmured.

Eragon fell silent again. He could clearly remember what they had been talking about before he had blacked out. But he still found it hard to believe. Especially as he was lying there in clothes that was not his and in a bed that had been used God knew how many times. And he didn’t know what he was feeling anymore. Could be possibly have gotten over Morzansson, just like that? Or had something else happened, that had made him forget what he was feeling? He wasn’t really sure of anything anymore.

“You know...we aren’t the only ones who were worried silly about you,” Saphira said as she sat down by the side of his bed.

“Yeah, I’d imagine Garrow had to hold Roran back from knocking some sense into my head even if I was still out if it,” Eragon murmured absently.

Arya laughed quietly.

“Not what Saph was talking about, but you’re right,” she said.

“Huh?” Eragon asked, feeling confused.

“Why, Morzansson of course. He practically carried you here, insisted on driving in fact,” Arya commented nonchalantly.

“I...so?” Eragon blinked. “A student had blacked out. Of course a teacher would worry.”

Arya cursed under her breath as Saphira slapped a hand to her forehead.

“Unbelievable,” The blonde sighed.

“What?” the brown eyed teen asked.

“Nothing,” Saphira said with a slight irritation in her voice.

“Right,” Eragon said sceptically.

“We don’t have the time to argue right now,” Arya said and walked over to them. “Let’s get you out of here, yeah?”

Eragon nodded and stood up. He didn’t mind getting out of there. He could feel the huge gap that the clothes he wore came with. And he’d rather not expose his ass longer than he needed to.

But just as he had changed out of the embarrassing clothes, Arya told him with a huge grin that Roran and Garrow had come to pick him up. And as he had predicted, Roran had had to be held back from attacking him when Eragon stepped out of the hospital. His cousin’s dark eyes were aflame with anger and worry, which almost gave him a comical look. Garrow however had a neutral mask on his face, only a furrow on his forehead spoke of his worry. His eyes were clouded in thoughts.

The ride home mostly went by in silence. Roran had been forced to sit up front with Garrow. The blond hadn’t said a word so far, probably due to a sound talk-to from his father before coming to the hospital.

“I’m fine, uncle,” Eragon said softly into the silence.

“I can imagine that was why I got the call that my nephew had collapsed in the hallway yesterday,” Garrow replied; his frown visible in his voice.

“I’m sorry, uncle,” Eragon mumbled. “But not even I know why I blacked out.”

“I can -”

“You cannot,” Garrow interrupted his son. “Eragon, didn’t the doctor tell you anything?”

“Well, they thought I hadn’t been sleeping at first. But I have! So now they think I hadn’t been eating enough,” Eragon answered meekly.

“Very well. You will eat more often and better from now on. I don’t want any more calls telling me that my nephew has collapsed again,” Garrow said with finality, though an emotion was only half-concealed in his voice.

Eragon bowed his head. A half smile entered his face. Garrow wasn’t disappointed in him, he had just been worried. But if he continued to eat as badly, Eragon knew that the worry would shift to disappointment in a second.

They arrived home ten minutes later. Garrow ushered them inside and locked the door behind them. Next he went into the kitchen, something that surprised both Roran and Eragon, and barked that the dinner would be ready in a half-hour. Eragon wasn’t really surprised to feel himself be dragged to his room a second after that. Roran sat him down on his bed, opting to stand before him instead of sitting.

“So...want to tell me what’s going on?”

Eragon sighed. Roran had looked worried for the past few weeks, but he had managed to escape being interrogated until now.

“Nothing’s going on, Roran,” he answered emotionlessly.

“Bullshit,” Roran said tensely. “And by the look on Saphira and Arya’s faces, they know. So, what do they know?”

“I...” Eragon paused. “I’ve just hit a rather rough part of being a college student I guess.”

“Right,” the blond rolled his eyes. “Forgotten that I’ve been down that same road? Hell, you saw me when I was finishing my Master. I couldn’t have been further gone. No, this is something different.”

Roran sat down beside him. Eragon had to look away from his searching eyes. They were close, practically brothers. He had never hesitated in sharing anything with the blond before. Roran knew his orientation and had been there during the time he had started to accept himself for who he was. Why was he hesitating now?

“I...I have a crush alright?”

Only silence greeted him for a while. Then...

“That’s it?” Roran snorted. “That can’t be all. Who is it? Tell me.”

“It’s...” Eragon bit his lip.

“Hey, no backing away now,” Roran said playfully, looping an arm around the younger’s shoulders. “Who is it? Tell me so that I can kick his ass for turning you down.”

Eragon laughed softly.

“He hasn’t turned me down, Roran. And he doesn’t have to,” the brunet mumbled.

“Why not? He’s straight? I doubt that’d apply to a girly boy like you.”

Eragon growled mock-angrily and took a swipe at Roran. The blond proceeded to laugh loudly and leaned forward to tickle his cousin. Eragon scooted out of the way before he could.

“Come on, Eragon. I won’t laugh at you,” Roran said, suddenly switching back to being serious.

Eragon stopped laughing and looked deep into his cousin’s dark blue eyes. He bit his lip and sighed again.

“I promise Roran, that once I’ve gotten over this, you’ll be the first I tell,” he said with a half smile.

“Or when you’ve hooked up with him,” Roran added innocently. “Though, I don’t mind if you’re scarce on the details. It’s okay that you’re gay, but I don’t need a running commentary.”

“Oh, and here I was looking forward to telling you the basics of foreplay,” Eragon said with a mock pout.

Roran was quickly out of the room, hands over his ears and laughing loudly. Eragon snorted to himself.


	2. Undone

Dinner was over quickly. Eragon didn’t have time to appreciate the nicely cooked meal before he had to run out to be in time for work. Garrow had tried to hold him back, but Eragon had explained that he couldn’t stay home, not when only he and Saphira were able to come. Usually three employees were in the store, but unfortunately their partner had called in sick with muscle-inflammation the week before. He would be staying in bed for quite some time.

He arrived at the bookstore ten minutes before his shift started. It had started to rain softly during his walk, and he shook the water off his jacket before entering. Saphira was there already, frowning slightly at him being there, but sent him a welcoming smile as he jumped into the back to change. He pulled the t-shirt over the black sweater he was wearing, nodded to the two other workers that were leaving, and walked up to Saphira.

“The boss just left. I explained the situation to him. And you have to admit, when Oromis shows that he’s worried, then you know how serious your situation is,” Saphira commented almost nonchalantly.

Eragon grinned sheepishly.

“You and I both know I couldn’t have stayed home today. Three has to manage the shop at all times, two if there’s no way around it,” he replied.

Saphira, who was busy tying her hair up, sighed.

“I know Eragon. But you’re putting the cash away today; I’ll take care of the tidying.”

Eragon raised his hands in surrender.

Business was slow that night. Tuesdays usually were. Mondays and Saturdays were usually the busiest, when people realised they had forgotten something over the weekend, or knew they needed something for a hard weekend of studying. The occasional Wednesday was also busy. But Eragon liked Tuesdays. They didn’t need much of his attention, and it was always a great day to sit back after a Psychology class and think things over.

Eragon suddenly stiffened. He hadn’t been to the lecture that day. But it wasn’t that important. He could always check the web later and get Arya’s notes. If she had been there that was. He couldn’t quite remember when he had woken up that day. But it must have been in the afternoon some time.

“Hey, are you alright?” Saphira’s voice penetrated his thoughts.

“Yeah, I just...Saph, when did I wake up today?”

“Oh, around three I reckon. Why?” she asked.

“How long had you been there?” he continued to question.

Saphira sighed.

“If you’re asking if we had been there the entire time, no. Arya came after her classes, an hour or so after me,” the blonde said. “My classes ended around half one. You do the math.”

“Blah, I hate math,” the brunet mumbled.

Saphira giggled.

“It’s good to have you back. You really did scare us you know. Seeing you just lying there all unresponsive...I don’t ever want to feel like that again, Eragon,” she finished in a whisper.

“I’ll try my best not to make you feel like that. Hey, I even ate a real dinner before coming here,” Eragon said with a soft nudge.

“Oh, you better have,” Saphira said threateningly, though her eyes shone with kindness.

A few costumers came and went, but everything was mostly quiet. The two friends talked occasionally, but never went into deep conversation, knowing that someone could come in and demand attention at any moment.

“Is it okay if I just wander about a bit?” Eragon asked an hour or so before closing, running a hand through his hair.

Saphira gave him a suspicious look.

“Okay. But if I find that you’ve been doing my job, I’ll make sure you’ll wish you were born a girl.”

Wincing at the threat the brunet walked down the familiar shelves. As usual, a few books were out of place, but Eragon merely noted the locations in his mind so that he could tell Saphira later. He heard the door of the store opening, but merely continued to walk along the Fantasy section. If anyone needed help, then Saphira would be the first thing they’d see upon entering.

The brunet frowned when he could hear quiet murmuring from the front of the store. Oh well, Saphira knew where he was if she needed help. But he could feel himself getting more and more curious. He inched forward, making sure to keep out of view and listened in.

“...sure?” the costumer asked quietly.

“Yeah, he’s just in the back,” Saphira answered.

Eragon’s frown deepened. Someone was looking for him?

“Thank you.”

And something was oddly familiar about the costumer’s voice, like he had heard it many times before.

“Eragon.”

And he had. Eragon froze in his place when he finally managed to recognize it. He turned around slowly.

“Ah, hey Mr Morzansson.”

Morzansson had his arms crossed and his eyes were narrowed. Eragon gulped. He had a feeling he was going to get a real talk-to, worse than he had received from Arya, Saphira, Roran and Garrow combined.

“...How are you?” Eragon asked, his voice slightly shaking.

“It wasn’t I who collapsed yesterday, Rider,” Morzansson replied calmly.

“Everyone’s determined to make me the butt of that joke,” Eragon mumbled to himself.

“With good reason,” Morzansson commented.

“I’m sorry,” the brunet whispered and looked away.

The older male sighed. Eragon heard him take a few steps forward. He was tempted to back up, but refrained from doing so. Morzansson stopped only a foot away. Two hands laid themselves on his shoulder. The brunet looked up.

“Just...don’t ever do that again.”

Eragon wanted to say that he had already promised he wouldn’t a dozen times already, but didn’t.

“I won’t,” he said instead.

Morzansson nodded.

“Good,” he murmured. “I don’t want to get so scared ever again.”

Eragon felt his cheeks flush. He bit his lip under the heavy stare he found himself in.

“I just fainted. I’m sure heavier stuff has happened there.”

“Yes, but it never had to one of my students, never to _you_ , Eragon,” Morzansson said hotly.

Eragon’s mouth suddenly dried up.

“I – I don’t understand...” the brunet’s voice trailed off.

“Then I’ll just have to make you understand,” Morzansson said huskily.

And before Eragon could say another word, his mouth was covered by another. A jolt went through him and his eyes closed almost instinctively.

It was hot, so hot Eragon felt like he was burning. Lips were sliding over his own, almost trying to coax him to return the gesture. A tongue ran fervently over his bottom lip. Eragon felt a soft whimper leave him. The pressure was instantly gone.

“I, forgive me Rider. I didn’t mean to...”

Eragon panted softly as he opened his eyes. Surely that couldn’t have happened? But it had sure felt like it. And by the panicked look on his teacher’s face, it must have.

“Wha -”

“I have to go,” Morzansson said hurryingly and quickly began to walk away.

Eragon, finally finding his senses, lunged out to stop him.

“No, wait!!” he cried as he latched onto the older man’s arm.

Morzansson stopped, but his posture was stiff. Eragon bit his lip.

“I...why did you -” he started to ask quietly, but never made it further.

“ERAGON! We’re supposed to have closed up ten minutes ago!” Saphira called across the store.

“Shit,” Eragon murmured to himself.

How quickly time had passed.

“Well, I better get going then,” Morzansson said stiffly. “I’ll see you in class.”

Eragon just shook his head and followed his teacher to the front of the store. Saphira took one look at them before something seemed to fall into place for her. She shared a quick glance with Eragon, almost to confirm her beliefs before she called out again, this time to someone else.

“I hope you drove here, sir. It started to rain quite heavily just fifteen minutes ago.”

Morzansson cursed.

“Yeah, I did, luckily, he answered nonchalantly.

“At least someone’s lucky today,” Saphira said almost flippantly. “I mean, I was smart enough to at least grab a coat and I live two blocks away from here, but Eragon...”

Eragon’s eyes widened. He knew where she was going with her seemingly innocent comments. And behind Morzanon’s back he started to shake his head and mouth _NO_ over and over. But Saphira either didn’t get his hints or simply ignored them. The brunet believed the latter more.

“It’s bad enough that he was in the hospital not twelve hours ago, but he has to walk home as well...” she sighed.

Eragon sent her a dark glare. Saphira merely smirked in the corner of her mouth, unnoticeable to those who didn’t know her.

“Is that true, Rider?” Morzansson asked quietly.

Eragon was startled. He shook his head quickly before looking up to meet his teacher’s eyes.

“Yes, sir,” he answered just as quietly.

Morzansson sent a quick look in Saphira’s direction before his shoulders seemed to slump slightly. A soft sigh escaped him.

“I’ll drive you home,” the hazel eyed man said finally. “I will not allow you to walk home in such weather.”

Eragon was about to protest when a loud thunder boomed across the sky outside. He jumped slightly. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Saphira smirk softly.

“Okay,” Eragon said, resigning himself to his faith. “Thank you.”

The blonde eagerly thrust him his jacket before winking and telling him that she’d close up. Eragon growled under his breath and sent her another glare. Saphira waggled her eyebrows and grinned.

“Come now, Rider, before the storm gets any worse.”

Eragon nodded and walked out of the shop. Outside the rain was pouring. It was almost impossible to see beyond two feet ahead of you. Morzansson guided Eragon to his car and almost had to scream for him to jump in. The brunet got in and buckled up. Then the older man started the car and drove out and into the streets.

The ride was made in silence. Eragon, who was too caught up in the recent events, didn’t even notice it when they drove past his house. His mind kept replaying the kiss over and over, and it wasn’t helping the returning blush any. He only woke from his thoughts when he heard the engine shut off.

“Ah, damn. I forgot to drop you off, didn’t I?” Morzansson said and laughed awkwardly.

Eragon just nodded.

“Well, I doubt it’ll rain like this forever. You can stay at my place until it quiets down,” the dark haired man said and got out of the car.

The brunet blinked. Just before Morzansson had been trying to run away from him, and now he was inviting him inside? He really didn’t get his teacher at all. But Eragon wasn’t about to complain. He got out of the car and followed Morzansson in a half-sprint to the apartment complex they had stopped at. Eragon was surprised to see that he actually wasn’t that far from home, maybe ten minutes or so by foot.

Morzansson unlocked the door and let Eragon enter first. The brunet shivered, feeling too much like a drowned rat than he would have liked. He dutifully took of his shoes and hanged away the drenched jacket.

“Come on in. I’m no drier than you, I won’t mind the mess.”

Eragon jumped slightly. He blushed again and stepped into the living room where he had seen the other just seconds ago. Eragon shivered slightly from the cold, even if the apartment was heated. As he rubbed his arms to get back the warmth in them he took a look around in the apartment.

It was fairly decent sized. The living room had two small couches placed in front of the TV that hung on the wall. Two speakers stood on either side of the screen and the small cabinet underneath the TV. A desk stood against the wall on the other side of the room, and next to it a bookshelf filled with various items along with literature. The kitchen was small and separated from the living room by a short wall. There were three other doors in the room. Eragon guessed they lead to the bedroom, bathroom and maybe a cupboard. With a worn blanket on one of the couches, a couple of books littered around along with a newspaper, the soft smell of something cooked not long ago...it really felt like a home.

What surprised Eragon was that it clearly looked to be the place of a bachelor. Morzansson could have anyone he wanted, and the brunet knew his teacher knew that. So why did he live alone? The information he had gotten from Thorn and Nasuada hadn’t been much, but he felt like he had missed something when they had talked.

“Here.”

Eragon jumped and barely managed to catch the items that had been thrown at him. He looked into his arms and frowned. Clothes? And the white cloth looked suspiciously like a towel.

“The bathroom’s to your right. Go and dry yourself up. I’ll warm some water,” Morzansson said and brushed past Eragon without another word.

The brunet bit his lip before complying with his teacher’s words. He locked the door behind him before he undressed. He quickly dried himself off before putting on the clothes Morzansson had let him borrow. Eragon flushed when he found that he needed to tie the drawstring pants extra hard to keep them from falling down his hips. The faded tee hung around his frame, but thankfully the neckline wasn’t big enough to slide down one of his shoulders. Eragon sighed, gathered the wet clothes in his arms and hung them up in the shower next to the Morzansson’s. He tried not to stare at the boxers he found there and nearly bolting out of the room when he was finished.

Eragon scowled when he found that his hair was still a little wet. Drops slid down his neck and his back. He gave a small shudder.

“What would you like to drink?” Morzansson called from the kitchen area. “And do sit down. The couch isn’t going to bite you.”

“Uh, whatever you have is fine,” Eragon replied as he hesitantly sat down.

Eragon fiddled his thumbs as he waited for Morzansson to finish his business in the kitchen. He tried to call Roran and his uncle, but the storm outside made sure his cell had no signal. The brunet was in fact surprised the lights were still working.

As he finished that thought the lights around them flickered. Eragon jolted and forced himself not to cry out in surprise. A soft curse came from Morzansson as he stepped out of the kitchen, two cups in his hands.

“Damn storm. Try my phone. Maybe the landline still works,” he said as he sat down the mugs on the coffee table.

Eragon nodded and walked over to the phone. He picked up the cordless phone and began to dial. As he waited for someone to answer he watched the older man pull out candles and a matchbox from what he had correctly guessed to have been the closet. The dark haired male placed the items on the table before sitting down on the couch, sipping warm liquid from his cup slowly.

_“Roran speaking.”_

Eragon was shaken from his thoughts when someone actually answered.

“Hey, it’s Eragon.”

 _“Fuck, it was about time we heard from you! Have you seen the storm outside?!”_ Roran nearly growled on the other end.

Eragon cringed. Out of the windows he could see just how bad the storm had gotten since they had left the store.

“Yeah. Anyway, I’m calling to say I’m staying over at- at someone’s place until the storm is over,” the brown eyed teen murmured into the phone, making sure not to look at Morzansson as he did so.

 _“...Who? It can’t be Saphira, you would have said so,”_ Roran said suspiciously.

Eragon paused.

“My Psych teacher. As soon as the storm dies down I’ll come back, alright?”

 _“Why didn’t you just say your teacher? You don’t have to lie to me, cousin,”_ the blond said slowly, before he seemed to suddenly come to a conclusion. _“That’s the guy isn’t it? The one you have a crush on? I still don’t believe it’s just a crush you know...”_

“I know,” Eragon said and sighed.

 _“Alright. But we expect you back as soon as the storm’s over. And Eragon, I expect you back with your virginity still in place,”_ Roran said with a slight dark tint in his voice.

Eragon choked.

_“He’s got to be a good couple of years your senior! I won’t allow anyone do seduce my cousin unless I’ve screened them.”_

“Uh, Roran? I’m fine, really,” the brunet said, trying his best not to blush.

 _“Right,”_ Roran snorted. _“But in a couple of hours, when you’re asleep...damnit Eragon, give me the guy’s address! Storm or no storm, I’m coming for you!”_

“Slow down, Roran!” Eragon nearly shouted into the phone. “I’m fine! **Nothing** is going to happen, alright? You can kill me when I get back.”

_“I didn’t say anything about killing you! Though, when you mention it, I ought to. Not telling me who you were crushing on, damnit. Don’t you trust me or something? ...Eragon? Oy, are you list-”_

Eragon said a quick goodbye before hanging up. He swore at his cousin under his breath. Damn that Roran and his overprotective attitude!

“Is everything alright?”

Eragon startled. He rubbed a tired hand over his face before facing his teacher.

“Yeah. My cousin’s just a little overprotective, that’s all,” the brunet replied sheepishly.

One of Morzansson’s eyebrows rose in disbelief.

“It sounded like there was something more going on, but I won’t pry,” the hazel eyed man said and took another sip of his drink.

Eragon breathed out in relief. He hesitated a moment before sitting down beside the other man. Morzansson gestured for him to take the other cup. Eragon bit his lip before taking a small sip. It was white tea, his favourite.

“Thanks,” he said softly before taking another sip.

A silence stretched on between them. Eragon gnawed on his bottom lip as he tried not to remember what had taken place not more than an hour ago. Eragon silently wondered if they would just stay there in silence, waiting for the storm to lift, without speaking another word.

Not long after the silence had begun, it was ended. A loud thunder boomed across the skies making Eragon jump in fright and brush up against Morzansson as he did so. The lights flickered and died.

“Damnit,” Morzansson muttered.

Eragon scooted back to his original place, a blush making its way onto his face as he did so. The light from the world outside barely lit up the room. But he was able to make out the figure that was his teacher. Morzansson stretched out and Eragon was once again startled when a flame sizzled into life before him. The older man quickly began to light up candles and what else he had at disposal, placing them around in the room to lighten it up.

“You alright over there?” he called out as he walked into the hallway.

Eragon could hear the telltale sound of a lock being turned. He fidgeted in his place.

“Yeah. The thunder just startled me, that’s all,” Eragon

Morzansson sighed tiredly as he sank into the cushions beside the brunet. Eragon leaned onto the armrest, his legs up on the couch and up against his chest with his arms around them. He felt more comfortable this way.

“Listen, Rider...I need to apologise for earlier,” the man said in a soft voice. “I didn’t mean to -”

“Kiss me?” Eragon whispered.

“...Yeah,” Morzansson muttered, and Eragon could make out two hands in the soft light that were massaging his temples. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you like that. Hell, I don’t even know what I was doing!”

Eragon frowned. He wasn’t so sure he believed the other. He could still remember that tongue caressing his lips. The thought of it was still making him blush.

“Then why?” the brunet whispered. “Why did you do it?”

Morzansson sighed tiredly.

“I don’t know.”

Eragon wasn’t so sure he believed that statement either. How could someone not know if they kissed someone?! Especially when that person was your student! But he stayed silent.

Eragon shifted his eyes to stare out of the window. He could see trees bending over from the force of the wind. The brunet wondered when it had started to blow that hard. It hadn’t been any wind at all when they had left the store. But now the rain was almost making it impossible to see and he could hear the wind howl outside. Another thunder boomed and a lightening struck not five seconds later. Eragon shuddered.

“I...”

Eragon felt his eyes widen in horror. He hadn’t meant to make that sound! But now Morzansson was gazing at him, waiting for him to finish his sentence. He cursed himself inwardly.

“You...you didn’t explain what you meant back then. Why you were so scared,” Eragon mumbled finally.

Morzansson winced.

“Forget it, Rider. I was caught up in the moment. It was nothing.”

Eragon scowled. Now, that he most certainly didn’t believe! And he wasn’t going to keep quiet about it any longer.

Sadly, he couldn’t think of anything to say, or how to say it for that matter. Furious with himself, Eragon pressed his legs even closer to his body. He peeked over at his teacher, surprised to see him staring into thin air. Suddenly an idea came to him. An idea so crazy the brunet was shocked when he didn’t dismiss it right away. Instead, he acted on it. Slowly, very hesitantly, he leaned closer. Morzansson was still lost in his own thoughts. Eragon gulped, braced himself, leaned up and kissed the other on the mouth.

Eragon felt the blush return with full force when he once again felt the soft texture against his own lips. He didn’t dare to hold the contact long and retreated mere seconds after his bold move.

Or rather, he tried to retreat.

Morzansson had woken from his thoughts now. And really, who wouldn’t when someone kissed them? He had latched out, a hand cupping the back of Eragon’s neck firmly, but not painfully so, preventing him from moving further away. Their eyes were locked. Eragon found it impossible to look away when faced with those impossibly hazel eyes at such a short distance. He gulped again.

Morzansson’s eyes flickered from Eragon’s lips and back up to his brown eyes. Eragon was panting softly, not sure what was going on in the other’s head.

“Fuck it,” Morzansson growled and leaned forward.

The world was swimming. Eragon had no idea it was possible to kiss like that. Furiously, but not bruising. Passionate, and yet with a hint of softness. He whimpered when that tongue once again glided over his lips. They were pried open and Eragon was introduced to a whole new universe of pleasure.

It was hard to keep up, but Eragon tilted his head and tried his best to kiss back. He had early on learned to breathe through his nose, so air was no issue for now. And yet he was beginning to feel dizzy. He was now sitting on his knees, not really sure how that had happened, but everything was steadily swirling around him. His eyes had closed ages ago. Eragon fell forward and had to brace himself by throwing his arms around Murtagh’s neck. Murtagh’s other arm snaked around his waist, pulling them even closer together. But they had to part sometime.

Eragon leaned back, gasping for air. He had been breathing the entire time, he knew that. But somehow, he felt like he had been holding his breath for over an hour.

“Eragon.”

He looked back up. Murtagh’s eyes were filled with something, but he could interpret just what emotion.

“You know this is illegal, right?” Murtagh whispered. “We...we can’t -”

“Who has to know?” Eragon interrupted, his tone that of a whisper as well. “This is no one’s business but our own.”

Murtagh fell silent. Then he chuckled.

“I knew there was a reason I thought you were smarter than you looked to be,” he murmured.

And then he kissed him again.

\----

Eragon wasn’t sure when he had ended up on his back, his shirt being ripped from his frame and skilled fingers running down his body. But he sure knew how it had happened.

Their kissing had suddenly not become enough anymore. The storm outside had faded from their mind, a distant memory of what had brought them there that night. They had stumbled into the older male’s bedroom, where Eragon soon had found himself pushed down onto a bed and continued to be kissed senseless.

The bed he was laying on was almost good enough to distract him from Murtagh’s actions. But only almost. The kisses and sucking on his neck as well as the fingers that suddenly found his nipples kept him very much aware of the person above him. And he couldn’t keep himself from groaning.

His fingers were gripping tightly at the other’s shoulders as pants escaped his mouth. He was almost bursting from feeling too much at once. Eragon had never felt so much pleasure, never known such pleasure. The brunet raked his fingers down Murtagh’s back when the older found a spot that nearly drove him wild. Murtagh answered by moaning loudly into his neck. Then lips were covering his own again. Eragon kissed back for all he was worth, feeling the temperature inside the room rise to new levels when a hand ghosted over his steadily growing erection.

Sweat gleamed in the soft light the night carried with it. Muscles clenched and unclenched as the animalistic sounds only continued to rise. But words were yet to be uttered.

Murtagh’s hands spread fire wherever they touched his bare skin. Damp hair was sticking to his forehead and nearly covered his eyes. But Eragon couldn’t have cared less. Then the hazel eyed male started to kiss his way down Eragon’s body. The brunet was beginning to feel even more light-headed. He wasn’t able to catch his breath or slow it as new pants and moans steadily continued to escape his lips. His back arched into the touch when fingers again played with his nipples, twisted and ghosted over them as a tongue sensually dipped into his navel. Eragon moaned at the loss when the fingers left his torso. He wasn’t able to do anything else before he again let out a sound of pleasure as his borrowed pants were effortlessly pulled down his legs and tossed aside, his boxers with them.

Eragon blushed when he felt Murtagh still. He was naked now, completely and utterly naked. And it didn’t help that Murtagh’s eyes were raking up and down his body. Their eyes met and the older smirked. Before the brown eyed teen could even utter a word; a long sensual lick on his most private parts made him scream. Horrified at his loudness, Eragon bit down on his finger to stop any upcoming sounds.

“Don’t.”

Eragon opened his eyes, not quite sure when he had shut them. Hazel eyes almost seemed black in the night as the dilated pupils only allowed a slimmer of colour shine through.

“I want to hear you scream,” Murtagh stated huskily.

Eragon gulped. He removed the finger from his mouth and let it clasp onto the bedding as its twin already was doing. Murtagh grinned.

Murtagh leaned back down and began to kiss the heated organ. Slowly he moved over to licking and nipping at it softly. Eragon’s pants rose. When an impossible heat engulfed his erection, another scream left his throat. The dark haired male slowly began to move, hands keeping Eragon’s hips in check. The tongue didn’t still, licking at the underside of the organ, pushing against the vein it found there. Eragon’s head was tossing back and forth and his arms were shaking from their death-grip at the bedding.

Then Murtagh retreated. The brunet let out a moan of despair. Murtagh chuckled and instead slid up the student’s body. He rested his weight on one elbow while the other hand reached down and began to stroke the abandoned length. Eragon’s left hand shot out and grabbed onto Murtagh’s right arm, the one he was leaning on. His breath was hitching, it seemed almost impossible to breathe. Then the other leaned down and yet again started to lick and bite his shoulder and neck. The hand sped up, curling around the organ just so and tightening just the right amount. Eragon lost it.

He came with a loud scream ripped from his throat. His muscles tensed and the world around him became white. His chest was heaving as he blinked to regain his sight. Murtagh was still leaning above him, his tongue working slowly to lick away the residue semen from his hand. Eragon gulped at the sight. Then his brown eyes lowered. He bit his lip.

Eragon sneaked out from underneath Murtagh’s muscled frame and forced the other to lie down. Then he began to work on the buttons and zipper on the jeans before pulling them off and away. He blushed when he found no underwear in his way. He quickly let their eyes meet and, after seeing only kindness in the hazel orbs, leaned down to return the favour. The brunet started by simply licking and tasting the organ. A muffled groan answered his actions. Eragon bit his lip again before covering the bottom of the erection with his hands and taking the tip into his mouth. He could feel the muscles in Murtagh’s body tense and could see the sheer self-control Murtagh kept himself under.

Eragon took the organ in as much as he could without choking and started to build his rhythm. He accidentally let his teeth grace over the length once, in which Murtagh answered with a loud groan. Eragon blushed and continued to do so occasionally. The sounds that came from it only encouraged him more.

Before long the brunet could feel Murtagh tensing even further. A strangled groan seemed to almost echo inside the room. Eragon pulled back until only the tip was in his mouth and almost instantly a bitter liquid filled his mouth. Eragon pulled back completely and managed to swallow the load he had managed to catch. Murtagh loud breathing and Eragon’s soft pants soon became the only thing audible in the room. Eragon sighed softly and prepared to get up.

He hadn’t managed to finish straightening his back before he was pulled down onto Murtagh’s bigger form. The other lifted an eyebrow as he circled his arms around Eragon. It seemed like he wasn’t going anywhere.

And within five minutes they were both asleep.

\----

Eragon woke up with a heartbeat close to his own and feeling more secure than he had ever felt before. The bed was warmer than he could remember it ever having been. And strangely enough it felt like someone was holding him… He shot up when he realised that he was spooned up against someone and that they were both naked. He relaxed when he remembered what had happened the day before. But then that truth sunk in.

“Aw, fuck!”

Eragon scrambled out of bed, but the only thing he succeeded in was to fall off the bed and to make a loud racket.

“I’m late! Roran’s going to kill me!! Damnit, Garrow is going to kill me!!” he ranted hysterically as he finally managed to locate his boxers.

“Rider, it’s going to look worse if you go home like that.”

Eragon turned around and made sure to keep the boxers in front of his groin as he did so. Murtagh was looking at him with a very amused expression on his face and with a soft smirk on his lips. The bed sheets were barely covering his naked form as he lay there.

“Take a shower. I’ll cook up something and then we can leave,” Murtagh said and stood up.

Eragon blushed. He forced out a ‘thanks’ before nearly bolting to the bathroom. He proceeded to take the quickest shower he had ever taken. Then he dried himself with the towel from the day before and dressed. He growled over his uncooperative hair before he dared to walk out of the bathroom.

Murtagh had obviously just slung on something, even though it didn’t make him look any less attractive. A pair of black jeans that were tight but not obviously so and the dark tee showed off his strong back. Eragon blushed when the other looked up and waved him over to the kitchen area. He motioned for him to sit down and they began to eat in silence.

No words were spoken until Murtagh began to clear away the plates, refusing any help from Eragon as he did so.

“You don’t regret last night, do you?” Murtagh asked in a murmur.

Eragon bit his lip again, mentally wondering if he was going to scar from doing it so much.

“No. I...uh...” the brunet blushed and looked away.

Murtagh crouched down until they were at eyelevel. Eragon had yet to get up from his chair. He planted a soft kiss on Eragon’s forehead.

“Me too, Rider,” he whispered and winked.

Eragon blushed but allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Murtagh captured his lips in a slow sensual kiss. Eragon kissed back softly.

“Now let’s get you home.”

Eragon nodded and felt himself smile. It widened when Murtagh smiled back.

\----

Eragon had been questioned immediately when he came home. Roran had nearly talked himself blue whereas Garrow had just nodded and thanked him for saying where he had taken cover from the storm. Roran had been about to tell the old man just who that had been, but Eragon had been quick to shut his cousin up and drag him to his room. There he had proceeded to tell Roran that yes; he was still a virgin, yes; it was Morzansson he liked, yes; he was sure he hadn’t been taken advantage of, and **no** ; he could not kill his teacher.

Eragon had been relieved beyond words when school had been cancelled the following days due to the storm. He didn’t have to step into the building until Friday! Apparently, while he had been preoccupied, the storm had flooded the building and had nearly caused the ceiling to fall down in the Science Department. But Friday arrived soon, and he got ready for school with butterflies nearly tearing his stomach apart.

Since the first lesson he had that day was Psychology, he hoped he wouldn’t be questioned until he saw Saphira later. But knowing his luck, the blonde was sure to have blabbed to Arya, and he was due for another round of question time when he arrived.

“Eragon!”

Eragon merely waved when he saw Arya. He walked into the classroom, past the ever-arguing girls, and found his place beside his friend. Arya’s grin turned into a smirk as he sat down.

“So, ‘Agon...” she purred. “I heard someone got a lift home from Mr New-Guy.”

“I did,” Eragon replied indifferently, though on the inside the butterflies transformed into eagles that started to claw up his insides. “So?”

“...No way,” Arya said and gaped. “Nothing happened?!”

The brunet really wished she knew how to be quieter sometimes. He merely shook his head in answer.

Arya narrowed her eyes, as always suspicious until she had gotten the same answer five times.

“You’re lying,” she stated, her voice finally lowering in volume.

“...Why would I be lying?” Eragon asked.

Arya was unable to answer as the bell rang and the teacher came into the room. She crocked an eyebrow and sent him a look that clearly stated that their talk was far from over.

Eragon found himself looking more intensely at his teacher that day. After what had happened it was no longer awkward to look at him. But that didn’t mean he had stopped blushing. And surprisingly Morzansson looked much more relaxed, almost happy when he stood before the class and greeted them. Arya once again sent him a suspicious look, though this one was more laded with amusement, before turning back to the front.

The lesson went by surprisingly fast. Eragon would later find that he hadn’t been able to remember a thing they had covered, but thankfully he was used to taking notes without really paying attention to what he was writing. Arya had kept nudging him whenever Morzansson would give a particular smile or laugh. It was obvious that she hadn’t been fooled. And as Eragon snuck a look at the front row, he could see that the students there had noticed as well. He was surprised to find himself amused over how many of them that looked completely heartbroken.

The lesson ended with the familiar but still shrill ring of the bell. Students started to walk out of the classroom, many of the girls leaning onto each other as they did so; some seemed to even be crying. Eragon heard a strangled, amused snort leave him.

“Oh, I heard that,” Arya purred. “You and every friend I can manage to round up during the day will have a lot to talk about.”

Eragon gulped.

“I should be afraid, shouldn’t I?”

Arya smirked.

“I’d say so. Just wait ‘til I tell Roran that his dear cousin lost his cherry,” she said and laughed.

“Oi! Nothing like that happened!” Eragon shouted after her as she ran out of the room.

“Prove it!” she shouted and winked as she ducked out the door and disappeared.

The sound as the door shut echoed softly. Eragon felt his eye twitch. He couldn’t believe her!

“...Is she always that...eccentric?”

Eragon stiffened and turned to face his teacher. They were the last ones in the room. Murtagh proved this by coming up to him and embracing him.

“Kind of. She’s always like that when she has gossip material to share,” Eragon stated embarrassingly. “Aw, damn...I just remembered. She and Saphira have a class together now. I’m _fucked_.”

Murtagh chuckled.

“You’re not fucked until I’ve asked for your guardian’s approval,” he murmured.

Eragon felt himself pale.

“You are actually going to ask?” the brunet asked meekly.

Murtagh leaned down and landed a quick kiss on Eragon’s lips.

“The term’s almost over. I got a job offer at the neighbouring college. It’s closer to home for my part. I’m starting there this autumn,” Murtagh paused. “I’ll ask then.”

Eragon stared at the other man, unwilling to believe what he had just heard.

“You’re quitting?”

Murtagh hummed in answer.

“After this term I will no longer be your teacher,” he stated. “Makes this all the more easier.”

“Makes what easier?” Eragon asked with a soft frown.

“Being in a relationship with you. That is, if you’ll have me,” the hazel eyed man replied.

Eragon felt himself grin. He leaned up on his toes and engaged them in a longer kiss.

“I wouldn’t have let Tuesday happen if I didn’t,” he whispered afterwards.

Murtagh smiled a large genuine smile. Eragon felt himself flush from the sight of it.

“Love you,” Murtagh whispered as he leaned down and buried his nose in Eragon’s hair.

Eragon’s blush, if possible, deepened even more. Murtagh chuckled into his ear as he began to try and stutter out a response.

“Ack! I love you too, jerk.”

Murtagh kissed his cheek softly before pulling back.

“Thanks. Now you better hurry, or you’ll be late for you next class,” he said and let the other go.

“Eh?! Aw, fuck!” Eragon exclaimed and took off.

He just barely made it in time for his next class. But his teacher was a very kind man that only took one look at him and ushered him to his seat. Eragon didn’t miss the quick smirk the older man gave him however.

The class seemed to fly by as Eragon’s thoughts were filled with Murtagh and what had happened during the week. For once he was distracted and didn’t mind it. His life had taken a sudden turn for the better and Eragon was going to enjoy it, meddling friends be damned. He had gotten his greatest wish granted, he could handle the teasing that came with it.


End file.
